The Distance from Life
by skyline
Summary: The Scoobies help Spike fight a monster, while Spike battles his own demons created by a newly installed chip in his head.


**THE DISTANCE FROM LIFE**

PART I

_It just doesn't feel right_.

            Spike couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong as he approached his crypt in the Sunnydale Cemetery. He came to a dead stop several yards away from the tall oak double door that served as the entrance to his home. He craned his neck towards the dark sky, inhaling the cool night air, sniffing for any scent out of the ordinary. _Nothing but the usual rotting corpses_. He began to walk slowly towards the doors, much as a stranger does towards an unlit house. 

            Spike reached the front door and turned the knob. _Unlocked.__ Wonderful._ He pushed the door open slowly, peaking his head in for a quick glance. _Nothing_. With a trepidation that Spike was unaccustomed to, he walked in, his eyes continuously scanning the room. He saw something in the corner, a shadow that seemed slightly out of place.

            " I see you!" Spike yelled, trying to cover the fear in his voice. "Why don't we come on out, huh?"

            The shadow flickered slightly. A deep, low voice, inhuman, came from the shadow. "Is this your place of dwelling?"

            "Yeah, but I don't remember putting out the bloody welcome mat."

            "You did not." With that, a blast of dark blue light shot from the corner, nailing Spike in the chest and sending him flying across the room. He hit the ground skidding on his side, the inertia from the shot sending him into the wall. Spike shook his head a few times, and managed to get up on his hands and knees. Looking up, he saw a tall figure emerge from the shadow. He wore a long black cloak, and his face was blue and black, the skin shaped like brimstone. _Some sort of demon. _His two dark blue eyes were trained on Spike as he walked--almost seemed to float--towards him. 

            "You live here, yet have no regard of the power beneath you. Pathetic."

            "You want power," Spike muttered, "I'll show you bloody power!" With that, Spike launched himself through the air towards the demon, his fist squarely connecting with its cratered face. The demon fell back slightly, as Spike followed with another punch and a roundhouse kick. The demon fell back and shot another blast of energy at Spike. This one missed, and Spike jumped towards the demon in an attempt to close off the space between the two. This time, the demon blocked his punch and then went low, wrapping his arms around the vampire. He then squared his body and threw Spike across the room, towards the front door. Spike tumbled once and jumped to his feet, just in time to be greeted by a blue energy blast to the stomach. The shot threw his body out the door and onto the grass outside. Shaken, he looked up and saw the demon, still inside, peering at him with those dark blue eyes, but this time with a grin. Spike stood up, adrenaline in full gear, and ran towards the door. The demon raised his hand towards Spike, and just as he was about to reach the oak doors, they slammed shut in front of him. He sprinted hard, ready to slam through the doors. Instead, an invisible force sent him flying in the opposite direction. He twisted through the air and hit the ground flat on his stomach. 

            Spike raised his head up, glaring at the door as he spit dirt out of his blood soaked mouth. _Now what?_

***

An eerie silence fell across the large warehouse, echoed only by the panting breath of the lone blond woman in the middle of the room. Ash littered the floor and her body.

            A slow, deliberate clap came from the end of the room as a tall man with bleached blond hair strode out from the shadow of the corner.

            "Bravo. Bravo, Buffy. Poetry in motion."

            Buffy glared over at him, a look of annoyance on her face as she brushed off the dust of a dozen dead vampires from the brow of her fair-skinned forehead.

            Spike stood there, admiring the scene, and reached for a cigarette. 

            "Guess I don't have to worry about where to ash this thing, huh," he said as he lit his cigarette. 

            "Yeah, no thanks to you. How long were you standing there scratching yourself?"

            Spike inhaled the smoke deeply, savoring it like you do after a good meal or hot sex. "For the whole show, love."

            "Creepy. You've got that whole vampirey stalker thing going, don't you? Go obsess somewhere else, huh?"

            With that Buffy turned around and headed towards the side door. Halfway there she stopped in her tracks, as Spike yelled out five words that she couldn't help but savor. "Wait, I need your help." A grin crept onto her face.

            Without turning around to face him, she called out, "Wait, I'm sorry. What did you say?"

            "O come on, you bloody heard me."

            Her grin widened. Still, with her back to him, "No, I didn't Spike."

            _Oh bloody hell_, Spike muttered under his breath.  Loudly, clearly, and with as much pride as he could manage to muster, "I…need…your…help."

            With that, Buffy turned around to face Spike, flashing him a smile that she knew he'd hate. "And here I thought dusting a dozen vamps would make my day."

**

            The demon sat in the middle of the pentagram, black candles lit around its circumference. It attempted to clear its mind. The fight with the vampire (a powerful one, at that) had been exhilarating. But now was the time for concentration. It could almost taste the power that radiated from this unholy site. _Surprised the vampire did not know_. No matter, now. All that was important was here, now, for the taking.

            The demon began its chant.

**

            "I'm still waiting for the part where you convince us to help you," Xander said, peering across the table at Spike. "Because really, Buff, I'm not finding the motivation here."

            Spike snarled. "What more do you want. There's a demon. Slay it. Isn't that what you kids do? Slay things."

            "I'm with Xander on this," Riley said, eying Spike. "Initiative duties aside, I think it's kinda funny Spike's homeless."

            "Yeah, I think I have some spare change in here somewhere, Spike." Xander reached into his pocket.

            "Yuck it up now, ducks, but when big bad blue finds whatever he's looking for at my humble home, he'll make Sunnydale a faint memory on an out-dated map."

            Giles, standing in his kitchen with a fresh cup of tea, cleared his throat. "Despite the source, Spike might very well have a point here. You cannot recall anything further from your encounter?"

            "No, just what I told you. This demon-thing was under the impression that my crypt contained some terrific power that he wanted to tap into. Judging from the fight he gave me, I'd say he has enough power as it is."

            Buffy stood up and walked over to Spike. She put both of her elbows on the table and looked into Spike's eyes. "You're a lot cuter neutered, you know that?"

            Spike growled, "You know, I don't have to take this abuse. I'd rather get lambasted by that demon then put up with this bloody group." A long pause, then a sigh. "So can you help?"

            Buffy looked around at the group, then back at Spike. "Guess it's your lucky day."

**

            "How about this one?"

            Spike, who had been in the middle of pacing around the study room, glided over to Willow and looked over her shoulder at the computer screen. Staring back at him was an image of a red monster with small black wings (_not big enough to make him fly…what's the point?_) and a long purple tongue that rolled all the way down to its kneecap.

            "Does it look blue to you?"

            "Well, no, but you said it was dark when you saw it, so I dunno…maybe it was red?"

            "Trust me, it was blue. With a black cloak. Put that in your search box, or whatever the hell it is you do."

            "God, no need to get all snidey and stuff. We're doing you the favor."

            Spike took a deep breath. "Right. Sorry. I just want to get my bloody place back."

            And with that, Spike took up pacing again. Willow gave a small sigh and went back to work, scouring the Internet with the in-depth description that Spike had given her. He watched her work as he paced. He looked at her hands as she typed and maneuvered the mouse back and forth. His eyes drifted up to her back, and then up her spine to the nape of her neck. His stomach growled. _Oh, how easy this would be. I could bite deep into her pink skin; drain her until she's as pale as I. I would lap up any blood that I spill accidentally, and then for good measure I'd kiss her with my bloody lips as her life slipped away. Buffy would like that last touch. Then, in her shock, I would grab the slayer, extend my fangs, and…_

"Spike!"

            "What's that, love?"

            Willow was staring at him. "You drifted off, there, and right when I found another big ugly thing. Look at this guy, tell me what you think."

            Spike walked over and looked at the monitor. There it was, the bloody demon that tossed him out, locked the door, and threw away the key.

            "That's him."

            Willow bobbed up and down in her seat a few times, obviously happy she found her quarry. Spike just looked at her. "God I'm hungry."

**

            "Zenthion. A powerful demon whose first sightings date back to 900 A.D. in southern France. Residents there reported a blue monster…"

            "With a black cloak?" Xander interjected.

            Giles, a little annoyed at being interrupted, kept his eyes down at the book he was referencing. "No Xander, no black cloak. Apparently it wasn't in fashion during the summer of 900. Regardless, I believe that this is the very same that Spike encountered. The villagers document that Zenthion came into their town looking for something of importance. He blasted his way through the main road, with a 'dark blue ribbon of pain,' until he reached the local church. There, he entered the church, killed the priests, and locked himself in. The villagers, or those who had not ran already, tried to enter the church, but were repelled and seriously injured when they approached. Does this sound familiar to you, Spike."

            "I believe we got our boy," Spike answered. "Question is, how do we get through the force field he put up?"

            "And," Buffy followed up, "what is he seeking at Spike's crypt in the first place? If there's going to be some strange power we have to deal with going in there, I'd like to know what it is."

            "Oh, I completely agree, Buffy," said Giles. "However, there is nothing I could find that had any answers. When Zenthion locked himself into the church, accounts state that several priests managed to break the field, but it does not state how. They attempted to stop the demon, but were all killed. Zenthion then exited the church with a thunderous roar and proceeded to kill any villagers that were still in the town. However, some survived, and their diaries state that all that was left inside the church were scattered bodies and limbs, blood everywhere.  Also, there was a hole in the earth; not too large, but apparently deep."

            Willow perked up. "So if we just leave him be, he'll be gone in a few days, and all we'll have to do is shovel some dirt to fill up the hole in Spike's living room."

            "Or we could just put the table or couch over the hole," suggested Xander. "No one will notice Spike."

            Spike rolled his eyes. "Oh the bravery of this group inspires me every time."

            "Hey, I didn't take on this job to get shot with blue bolts of pain for a vampire that would be just as happy to snap my neck in two if he had the chance."

            "Oh, I'll show you snapping boy," Spike stood up, knocking his chair back.

            "Oh yeah, well I've known cats, small, tiny cats, with more of a bite than you," said Xander, standing up in same.

            "OK guys, enough!" Buffy yelled, shooting out of her seat. "This is getting us nowhere. We all have to be big grown-ups here, OK? And in case any of you missed the end of the story, this demon killed people after it was done doing its thing."

            "What we need then is a plan," said Riley. "And the first thing to worry about should be that force field."

"Right," said Buffy. "Giles, any tricks on getting it down?"

            "Well, there has to be some type of magic we can use. Willow and I will research it further. In the meantime …"

            "I'll go out and patrol," said Buffy.  "Everyone else, get some rest."

            From the end of the table, Spike cleared his throat. "Vampires don't 'rest' in the evening."

            "Well good, because you're not staying here," Giles muttered.

            "Would never dream of it. I'll be at the blood bank if you need me." And with that Spike left, _like a bloody cat going to get its milk_.

**

            When Spike arrived at the hospital, it was well past one in the morning. He had taken the side roads, killed a few vamps. It hadn't helped sooth his irritation. He walked up to the front door, reaching into his pocket for the key he had stolen from the nighttime janitor. This was the normal routine. He had somehow bypassed his instinct to smash through the glass and break in to the place the first time he started coming here. Spike figured if this was to be a regular venue to quell his hunger, then discretion would be the better part of valor. It had gone against his nature, seemed wrong not to take without fear of consequence, but such as his life was becoming since his "visit to the vet" (as he so often coined it). 

            Spike inserted the key into the deadbolt lock. He was about to turn it but quickly realized it was already unlocked. _Not again_. He pushed the door open (much more forcibly than he had done two nights before at his crypt) and strode in, eyes and ears alert. A dark, empty hallway greeted him. He walked to the stairwell and headed down towards the basement, where the blood was stored. At the bottom of the stairs, he rounded the corner into a second hallway. Here, with only a few storage rooms on each side, was where his dinner was. He likened it to a buffet (though not as grand of one as the now burnt-out Sunnydale High School used to be, back in the good old days). The fact that there were so few rooms, so little blood, was a testament to Sunnydale itself (or at least to the Hellmouth, Spike figured).

            Here, now, Spike was suddenly on edge, more so then before. He heard, rather sensed, something. _Feeding_. It was down towards the end of the hall. He walked quietly, cautious of making any sound. The sensation intensified as he came closer, and now he could hear the sound of blood being slurped without care. It reminded him of Xander earlier that night, sucking on the last bit of a large soda mixed with air through an oversized straw. Some vampire was really having a go at it.

            Spike crept up to the door; it was cracked open slightly. He delicately pushed on the door to wedge the crack open a little more. Peering in with one eye, he saw a hunched figure on the floor, holding a plastic container with two hands, alternating between licking it and chugging it. Spilled blood formed a puddle around his body.

            "Forgot our bib, did we?"

            The figure dropped the cup and spun around, still bent over, and peered up at Spike. "Please…go away. I'm feeding," he said in a surprisingly pleading voice.

            "That I can see. And a bang up job of it, too."

            "Please, leave me alone."

            "No," spike answered. "This is my place. Mine only. I can't feed on humans. I need this blood, and I need this place to be in shape, not all spilled and ransacked."

            There was no answer this time from the blood soaked figure. He just looked up with wide-eyes at Spike. Spike's patience, in the meantime, was running out.

            "So what's your bloody excuse, then?"

            "I'm…I'm a vampire…like you. I can't feed…feed on people. Curse from a goddess. She…laughs at me. I hate it." The vampire was shaking the whole time. Scared. Pathetic.

            "So why this whole hopeless, puppy dog charade. Get over it, already." Spike's blood was starting to boil over, though he wasn't sure why. Of all the vampires in the world, _I should relate_.

            "I…can't. You don't understand."

            And with that, Spike delivered a vicious kick to the vampire's head. It went down instantly, and Spike continued to lay into him with his steel-toed boot, every shot directly to the head. Blood squirted and poured everywhere, mixing on the steel floor with the discarded hospital blood. Spike started to slip a little from the floor's wetness, but he braced himself against the wall with his left hand and managed to get a few more kicks in. Winded, Spike stopped, his deep breathing mixing in concerto with the gurgling of the stricken vampire laid out on the floor. He reached into the inside of his black trench coat and pulled out a long wooden stake. Rolling the vampire onto its back with his foot, he plunged the stake through its heart, never once looking at its face.

PART II

            'You're late."

            Spike arrived on the scene, a few hours past sunset, to find the Scoobies staked out in front of his crypt. Willow and Tara were sitting on a purple blanket they had laid out on the ground. White candles were lit in a circle around the both of them. They sat Indian style across from each other, and their hands were clasped together. They both looked to be in a deep trance. Riley stood in the background on top of a large tombstone, with some sort of rifle in hand. _Probably on lookout, the boy scout_. Xander stood next to Buffy, arms folded in the same manner that she currently had them in.

            "We said 8pm, sharp."

            "I know, I know. I had trouble getting up. Didn't sleep well today, OK?"

            "Hey, as long as your awake when we go in," Buffy said, nodding her head towards the crypt. "Willow and Tara should be ready to do the spell. Once the force field is broken, the four of us go in fast and hard and nail this thing."

            Spike looked over at Riley. "And what have you got there? A nice little taser?"

            Riley jumped down from his perch and walked towards Spike. "Initiative Plasma Rifle, model PRX-2. Shoots energy blasts. Figure if this thing likes to dish out painful bolts, then it deserves a few in return."

            "Bloody idiot. What if all this thing does is spoon feed it more energy to play with?"

            "Don't worry," Riley answered, patting his rifle. "Initiative technology, Spike. It won't fail."

            "Is that right?" Spike asked, a question he didn't expect to be answered. He turned to Buffy. "Let's do this."

            Buffy nodded, going over and kneeling by Willow. "Ready?" she asked softly.

            Willow nodded. She stood up, Tara still in hand. They slowly made their way towards the invisible force field, stopping a few feet away from the entrance to Spike's home. Each raised a hand towards it and began chanting, slowly at first, then quicker in rhythm and deeper in pitch. Sweat dripped off their foreheads as their fervor increased. Buffy, Xander, Riley, and Spike stood in the background at the ready. The wind began to pick up around them, dead leaves bristling off the ground. Willow and Tara's voices got louder and louder with each passing moment, powered by the magic they were invoking. The wind began to howl, nature herself being pulled about by the witches. Suddenly, a flash of bright light followed by a loud boom exploded from the crypt, skyrocketing Willow and Tara through the air. They landed hard on their backs several yards away. Their hands were still clasped together.

**

            In the back of its mind, it felt it. Some sort of disturbance above. The demon could pay it no heed. Not now. Not when it was so close to the power. Its mind flashed back to years past. Humans in a town had tried to interrupt it before. Priests. They had come close, too. But it disemboweled all of them. Redecorated the church with their holy innards. Except there was one. A child, innocent. It had especially enjoyed that one. A limb at a time. The pleasure. And if this interruption was to happen again, in the here and now? More pleasure, it thought to itself.

            With the demon's mind at ease, it blocked out the disturbance. _Almost there_.

**

            The group, except for Spike, ran over to their fallen friends. Buffy knelt over both of them, every horrible thought imaginable running through her mind. "Willow? Tara?" They both looked unconscious, or heaven forbid..

            "Buffy?" Willow muttered, barely opening her eyes. 

            "I'm here, Willow. I'm here."

            "It's open. The field is down. Go..we'll be OK."

            Xander knelt down and kissed Willow on the forehead. "Thanks, Will."

            "Thank both of us," Willow said turning her head towards Tara. She was still knocked out. Without averting her eyes from her lover, she said aloud, "Hurry."

            "You heard her," Buffy yelled, standing up. "Let's go!"

**

            The oak double doors shot wide open. In the archway were four imposing figures, silhouetted by the moonlight behind them. One with a long draping black trench coat, rapier in hand. One with body armor on his chest, both hands clutching a rifle. One with flowing blond air and a crossbow at the ready. And then one with a red Hawaiian shirt, clutching to a baseball bat. 

            Greeting them was a large room with a couch and an old television, a few stone tables here and there, a coffin in the corner, gothic memorabilia spread about, and one large gaping hole in the middle.

            "I guess those old legends were right," Xander quipped.

            Spike glared over at him. "We go into battle against a great demon who's almost as old as your fashion sense, and you bring a bloody bat with you? Why not next time bring your tiny chairs and table and we'll have a quaint little tea party with the bugger. We can reminisce about all the villagers we used to gut open, and all that good stuff."

            "Hey," Xander shot back. "Bats work good. I saw it in a movie once."

            "Well I feel all nice and better now," Spike rolled his eyes. He turned his attention towards Buffy and Riley, both of whom had moved over towards the hole. Riley let out a whistle. "Deep," he said ominously, peering into the darkness. He picked up a small statue of a gargoyle from a nearby table and threw it down the hole. It made a slight thud several seconds later. "But doable."

            "Hey, that better still be in one piece. Dru gave that to me."

            "How sentimental," Buffy smiled. "Riley?"

            "Give me five seconds." Riley threw his backpack onto the floor and dug out his grappling gear. Within minutes, he had a secure line latched at the mouth of the hole that stretched to the bottom. Buffy slang her crossbow over her back and pulled out her flashlight. She gestured to Spike. "Ladies first."

            "Funny." Spike, using the rope to guide him, repelled down the hole. After about forty feet down, the hole emptied out into a small room—not more than 12 feet in circumference—with the walls, ceiling, and floor made of polished gray stone. The floor was cut into large square tiles. Engravings of what must have been some ancient language adorned the walls, interrupted only by numerous torches spaced in sequence about two feet apart from each other. They glowed with a bright blue flame. On the floor laid a small gargoyle that was looking up at him. Spike picked it up threw it at the hole in the ceiling.

            "Hey!" a voice yelled from above. "Watch where you're throwing things."

            Spike smiled. "It's all clear down here, boys and girls."

            The remaining three were down in the room in a matter of minutes. One long hallway stretched before them, similarly lit with torches. The source of the light was unknown, but welcome. Buffy took the lead this time, putting her flashlight away and bringing her crossbow to bear. The engravings flowed from the room and into the hallway, though they were much less cluttered then before. Buffy peered at them. She had no clue what they said, but the general sense she got was they were directing her down the stone hall. She brushed her hand against the wall. Very cold, even in the places that were next to the torches. A shiver went through her body. "Stay close," she ordered.

            Several minutes later, Buffy was faced to face with a large metal door. It was pristine, with no sign of age or use. "Everyone watch out," she said as she put her hand to the door. Buffy half-expected to be blown back to the room from which they started, but instead was greeted by a low creaking sound and the door nudged slightly open. _Maybe __Willow__ and __Tara__'s spell knocked out all the surrounding force fields_. But it was of no concern to her now; all that worried her was what might greet her on the other side. She turned her head back. "Are you guys ready?"

            "I've been ready for three bloody days," Spike answered. 

            "OK, then. On three. 1…2…"

**

            Many years ago, a priest sat with a young boy in the center of a farming village, which was nestled in the rolling hillsides of southern France. They both sat on stone steps, facing the town's water fountain, its centerpiece in the heart of the village. The boy sat, eyes fixed on the water, watching the ripples form and then disperse as he threw small pebbles into it. He did everything in his power not to look up, not to see the church bell tower in the distance. That was where the monster was.

            "Father, why do we stay here?"

            The priest looked over at the boy, gazing at the emptiness in his eyes. Sadness washed over him, but his resolve remained. "This is still our village, Pierre. Would you have us leave?"

            A long silence. The boy's eyes never drifted from the water. "My dad is dead. That monster is the devil. There is nothing we can do."

            "You would just have us give up then?"

            "Why not? There is nothing we can do."

            "Pierre, life sometimes puts us at odds with what we feel is the safe or right. We are defined in life not by what is dealt to us, but by how we respond. So we stay. We fight."

            "And die?"

            "Yes, if that's what it takes to live."

**

The first thing that Spike saw after Buffy gave the door a good hard kick was a blue flash hurdling towards him. It took him a fraction of a second to recognize the danger (past experience withstanding) and dive to the ground. Buffy swung her body to the left, her back hitting the wall, which allowed the blast to whiz by her and nail Riley on the chest plate of his body armor. Riley fell back, clipping Xander on the side as he did.

Buffy looked back briefly at Riley. "Spread out, I'll draw his fire," she yelled as she ran into the room, firing a volley of sharp metal arrows from her automatic crossbow. Two of them hit, one in the arm and one in the shoulder, though they didn't penetrate too deep. Buffy cut to her left, hurling small throwing blades at the demon as she ran towards the cover of a tall stone column. Zenthion's body rotated as Buffy sped around the room. With a roar, he let off several short bursts of energy. Buffy could feel the air sizzle around her as the shots came within inches of her head. At last, close to the column, she tumbled to the ground, going into a summersault roll until she was safely behind it. Back against the column, she reloaded her crossbow.

Spike and Xander, in the meantime, used Buffy's distraction to flood into the room. Xander, clenching his bat, made a beeline towards the demon, trying to get to its blind side while its eyes followed Buffy. Xander saw Zenthion let off several blue bursts at Buffy, and used the opportunity run up swinging. With all the force Xander could muster, he swung his brown Louisville Slugger at the demons head. The bat shattered into a hundred pieces on contact. Zenthion swung around and grabbed Xander by the neck, its long black talons wrapping around him and digging into his skin. Blood began trickling down Xander neck as he tried desperately to get air into his lungs. 

Buffy came out from behind the column. "Let him go!" she yelled, her crossbow trained on the both of them. Spike came out from behind a rock silently, his rapier at the ready, hoping to get a blind attack on him. Zenthion, however, sensed Spike. He rotated around and stepped back in order to get both of his opponents in front of him, the whole time guiding Xander as a human shield.

"I should thank you," Zenthion bellowed, taking several more steps back. "Human blood accelerates the process, and I had just ran out." The demon nodded his head to the side. Buffy and Spike strained to see where it was pointing, not wanting to take their eyes off the demon. But they saw it. Several human corpses, piled in the corner, their skin shriveled from the blood that had been drained from their bodies. Zenthion stopped in his tracks, and was now standing atop a pentagram.

Buffy knew what could come next; she had to take a chance. She pulled the trigger and the arrow sped towards the demon. He was too fast. Spinning Xander to meet the incoming projectile, a look of horror came over his face as he felt it plunge into his stomach. "Thanks," Zenthion smiled. He wrapped his hand around the arrow and yanked it out. Blood spurted from the wound, splashing the ground and the pentagram that was etched into it. It dropped Xander to the ground, face first, his open wound pouring more of his blood onto the symbol.

"No!!!" Buffy screamed, unloading her remaining arrows into the beast. It barley seemed to notice as a white mist began to form around the pentagram. "The power is mine!" it yelled as the white mist began to enter through Zenthion's mouth and into his body. The arrows that were stuck into his body were pushed out, and the wounds began to heal over themselves.

Spike looked on in amazement. _So that's what it is_. "Buffy, now," he yelled, running towards the demon. Buffy followed suit.

**

The next few minutes were like slow motion. Spike charged towards the demon from its left; Buffy from its right. It held out both arms, one of each trained on them, while the mist continued to flow into its body. The blue energy shot out from each hand in concentrated bursts. Not powerful enough to kill, but strong and fast enough to stop anything in its tracks. Spike used his sword to deflect most the shots, skirting by the remaining few. Buffy took a different approach. With a good running start, she had gone into another somersault roll. However, Zenthion had anticipated this. It angled its hand down and fired into the ground, leading Buffy just enough to nail her in mid-roll, knocking her into an unconscious stop. 

Spike had better luck. Only a few feet away from the creature, he leapt headfirst into the air, his eyes locked on Zenthion's hand. Spike rotated his body to its side, avoiding the point-blank shot fired by Zenthion. He swung his sword as hard as possible through the air, lopping off the demon's hand. It screamed in pain, kneeling towards the ground, becoming an easy target. Spike saw his window of opportunity immediately. Raising his sword over his head, Spike swung it down ferociously, cleanly severing Zenthion's head. 

The body slumped to the ground. The white mist, which had been in the process of going into Zenthion, was still in the room. It floated around Spike, reminding him of the times he had spent under the darkened wet canopies of the Brazilian rain forest. But it was lessening. The mist was starting to disperse. Slowly, but it was definitely on its way out. Perhaps only minutes left. _Now is my chance._ Spike rubbed his head. That god-forsaken chip that disallowed him from the simple—and essential—pleasures of ripping men to bloody shreds was still lodged in there. He could feel it in there sometimes, at night. He could definitely feel it now. This white mist, this healing power, which the demon had summoned could be his key to salvation. The chip was impossible to remove without causing irreparable damage, even death, to himself. _But with this mist, there's a chance that I could rip the chip out of my brain, then soak himself in it  and be healed immediately._ It wasn't a hundred percent, but Spike rarely saw those odds anyway.  

Spike looked around, then down at the pentagram, where the mist was being sucked into. He then looked over at Xander. His body was motionless; the blood from Buffy's misguided arrow was still pouring onto the tiled floor. A sudden urge washed over Spike, sending shivers through his spine and raising the hairs on his neck. _Oh come on now. _

The Xander that always made the stupid witty remarks. 

The Xander who always berated Spike every chance he got. 

The Xander who came to battle tonight with a bloody baseball bat, for god's sake!        He then glanced at the slender body of the Slayer, who still lay unconscious, her front flat to the ground. The curves of her body expanded and detracted slightly, a sign that she was breathing. 

The mist was almost gone.

"Oh bloody hell," Spike muttered. He ran over to Xander, picked him up quickly, and literally threw him onto the pentagram. The mist, not to be deterred, continued on its path home into the pentagram, going _through _Xander's body as if it wasn't even there. Spike watched in amazement as the stomach wound began to heal over itself. Quickly, very quickly, the mist had disappeared. Xander began to cough, exhibiting signs of life.

Spike felt sick to his stomach. 

**

Giles stood by the window, glasses in hand, cleaning the lenses with the corner of his shirt "So you haven't seen him since?"

The Scooby gang sat in the living room of Giles apartment, each one sipping on coffee and tea as they tried to wake up from a well-deserved nights sleep. The sun had just risen outside, and Sunnydale's birds were chirping, the sound slightly audible through the window that Giles had just opened.

"Nope," replied Buffy. "When Xander brought me to, I was greeted to a dead decapitated demon."

"It was gross," Xander chimed in.

"After that, we gathered everyone and headed here. Spike wasn't in his crypt when we got out of the cavern. Either way, I'm just glad we made it."

"Yeah, despite shooting an _arrow_ into my stomach."

Buffy smiled, "Good thing I'm a bad shot. I was aiming for the head."

"Still," Giles said, shaking his head. "It doesn't explain Xander's wounds disappearing. Let alone the blood loss that you suffered."

"Hey, bowl of Wheaties everyday…does wonders, I tell you."

"Yes, good nutrition aside," Giles retorted, his thoughts wandering off.

Tara spoke up. "Xander, you said you woke up on the pentagram. That was the source of the healing power that the demon was conjuring. That would be the best place to be to get that power."

"Yeah, but the demon wouldn't put somebody he was fighting in a place where they could heal," said Riley.

"Right," said Willow. "So maybe Spike put him there, after the battle."

Xander shot an annoyed look Willow. "Are you saying I-used-to-be-a-big-scary-vampire-but-now-I'm-just-pathetic Spike saved my life?"

"Uh-huh," Willow nodded her head up-and-down with an amused grin.

"Oh god. Buffy, shoot me again."

**

            Several days later Buffy, determined to have a night off from slaying, strolled into the neighborhood video store and headed straight towards the horror section. She stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes caught the glimpse of a familiar figure. 

A slim man in a long black coat stood at the front desk, his hand out as the clerk counted money back to him.

            "Spike," she yelled. Startled, he spun around. "I haven't seen you since the fight."

            "Oh, yes. Um, you know…busy. Nightlife, dark things and all that." Spike quickly grabbed the movie.

            "Uh-huh," Buffy replied, rocking back-and forth on her heels. "Whatcha got there," she asked, her eyes gazing down towards the videotape in his hands.

            "Oh, um nothing," he said nervously, putting the tape behind his back. "Look, I've gotta get going. I'll see you around though." With that, Spike turned the other way and left.

            A frown was etched on Buffy's delicate face. Not the Spike she was used to. She made her way back to the horror section—_even on your night off, huh girl?_—and looked around briefly. She was in the mood for a classic flic, but the one she wanted was out. She picked up the display box. Buffy headed back to the front and approached the video clerk. "Do you have any more copies of this?"

            The clerk eyed it. "Sorry, bad timing. The guy that was in here a minute ago just rented it."

            "Really?" Buffy said, surprise in her voice. Without saying another word, she left the store, leaving the display box on the counter.

            "Hey Mary," the clerk said to his co-worker as she walked by. "Can you put this back. It goes in the Horror section." He tossed the box to her. "And be sure it goes in alphabetical order this time. We don't want to hear it from the boss again."

            Mary rolled her eyes. "Horror section. Under Letter 'F.' Got it."

-END-


End file.
